The four dukes and one duchess begin to sway slowly, humming. Song vibrates from them, rippling through the water. The notes are in perfect harmony and the markings of the shell light up in gold.
“This chorus of the five duchies of the Eversea is now in session. It is year 8,242 of the divine twining,” Ventris says as the singing dies down. “Those in attendance are myself, Ventris Chilvate of the Duchy of Faith.”
“Sevin Rowt of the Duchy of Scholarship,” the man to Ventris’s left with the black braids says.
“Crowl Dreech of the Duchy of Harvest,” the man with the brown hair to the right of the center throne says.
“Remni Quantor of the Duchy of Craftsmen, and conductor of this chorus.” The eldest woman places both hands on her tail, leaning forward and staring intently at me. I try to avoid her piercing, hazel eyes.
“Ilryth Granspell, Duchy of Spears,” Ilryth says last, adding, “Standing before the chorus for review of conduct regarding this five-year offering to Lord Krokan.”
“Indeed.” Remni wastes no time getting the first word in, as seems befitting of her station. “Ventris, seeing as you were the one to call this meeting and catch these supposed offenses, I think it is only right for you to explain why we are spending a morning on it when there are anointments to be given to the offering and matters to be attended to before the waters are high.”
Perhaps I misjudged the grizzled woman. Her tone suggests she views these affairs as tedious at best. I spare a glance to Ilryth. I should have trusted him more to know if this chorus merited worry or not. All I could feel in my gut was my own fear going before the council back home, Charles standing opposite me. There’s a trembling in my muscles, telling me to run from the mere thought of that strange man—a fear I don’t quite understand.
Charles… The name is synonymous with fear in my mind. But what did he do to me?We were married. That much I know because I remember standing before the council to nullify that contract. But almost everything before that is blank. A huge void of my life.
Whatever it was must have been horrible enough that I needed to wipe him from my personal records. The next memories I will choose to be expunged will be of those appearances before the Council of Tenvrath. Merely thinking of him is a reminder of everything that’s gone—everything I don’t know. It’s not worth the emotional strain to keep any memories of him.
“I was made aware of the oddity late last night through a dissonance in the humming of the water—a shift in the songs of the old ones,” Ventris says. “As is my responsibility, I have been preparing here for the offering’s arrival. Naturally, the anamnesis alerted me to her presence when she first arrived in the Eversea and subsequent blessings only strengthened that awareness.”
“You’ve been spying on me?” I blurt. Not even the shell can hold back that thought.
“Notspying,” Ventris says, mildly offended. “I have been watching over you to ensure that you are well taken care of.”
“Did you doubt Ilryth’s ability to take care of me?” I ask pointedly, offended on my duke’s behalf.
Ventris’s eyes dart between Ilryth and me. From the corners of my eyes, I see Ilryth smirk slightly. It’s a very minor movement, enough so that the rest of them don’t seem to notice. But he’s been the only foundation I’ve had in this strange, new world. I’ve paid very close attention to the man.
“Ilryth has acted in dissonance with the council before, especially when it comes to matters of the offering,” Ventris says curtly. His hands are folded in his lap, shoulders away from the salmon-colored fins on either side of his face to give the appearance of ease. But every muscle in his expression has been trained into place. He clutches his hands so tightly that his knuckles are nearly white. What really gives his distress away is the incessant flicking of his tail.
“The matter of Ilryth selecting a human for the offering is long settled, Ventris. It is done. Stop echoing the final note.” Crowl leans back in his sponge-filled shell, his brown hair swaying about his face. He has the air of seniority and the ease that comes with it. I suspect that he must be the second in command. As far as I can tell, the hierarchy seems to be structured by age.
“It might seem little to you, Crowl, because the obligation to find and anoint the offerings does not fall to you. But Ilryth and I will be finding offerings long after you are gone. We have a standard to uphold.” Ventris narrows his eyes at Ilryth. I can feel the barely contained rage radiating off of him. “A standard that is meant to be followed, or else there are unfortunate mistakes and the offerings lack the proper potency.”
Ilryth stiffens slightly. Was that intended to be a sly attack on his mother not being able to quell Lord Krokan’s rage? I ball my hands into fists, digging my nails into my palms to keep myself from verbally launching myself at him in Ilryth’s defense and my own. How dare he imply I’m not up to standard, too. Only I am allowed to question my own adequacy.
“Watch your tongue,” Crowl says lightly, but with a dangerous look to Ventris.
“Enough, all of you,” the eldest, Remni, says tiredly. In that moment she looks twice her age. “Let us stay focused on the matters at hand—taking the offering from the Eversea via traveler’s pool without permission, and engaging in physical touch with the offering.”
So it really is forbidden…
Sevin, Duke of Scholarship, picks up where Ventris left off, speaking to Ilryth. “So Ventris found that you had taken the offering out of the Eversea by sensing her departure via the use of the traveler’s pool.”That explains why they don’t seem to know of our departure through the Fade to the Gray Passage. And the Duchy of Spears—at least Fenny, Lucia, and Sheel—are keeping it a secret. “Surely your mother or father taught you that once the anointing begins, the offering is tethered to the Eversea and removal risks her disappearance?”
“I was informed.” Ilryth’s tone is completely different—harder, more closed off—when talking about his parents.
“And Ilryth explained as much to me,” I interject. With a small kick I swim forward, hovering next to Ilryth rather than off to the side. I am careful not to touch him. “He told me of the risks butIwas the one who insisted. As I listened to the songs of the old ones, I realized I needed clean sea, free of rot, to be blessed in. I needed to be close to other humans—those crafted by Lellia’s hands.” I try to levy all the information I’ve collected on the Eversea until now. It rings true when spoken with confidence. “Leaving was an act to sever my ties to the Natural World. It was absolutely necessary or I would have remained tethered to this plane. Now that I have returned and severed those ties, I am better prepared to meet the Abyss.”
All eyes are on me. Ventris wears a scowl. But the rest of them seem fascinated—as if they’re amazed I can speak at all. I feel a bit like a toddler performing a parlor trick to cooing parents, but I carry on anyway.
“His Grace was very cautious, of course. He taught me how to review the songs to make sure I hadn’t misunderstood Lord Krokan’s will. We went at night,” I continue. “And we kept a close eye on my status to make sure I didn’t fade away and that no harm came to the elements of the anointing that had already been completed. Ilryth ensured that we returned before any real risk was posed to me.”
“And were you able to sever these human tethers that would’ve prevented your descent into the Abyss as the offering?” Remni asks.
“Yes.” I nod and place a hand on my chest. “Where there was once turmoil, there is now peace. I know in my heart and my song that I am wholly ready to be the offering that will bring Lord Krokan peace.”
The four of them stare at me, occasionally sharing a glance with each other. I’m surprised when Ilryth leans forward to speak, holding out his arms, beseeching all of them.
